Hunters
by Slightly Sinister Sinestra
Summary: Shayera's thoughts on a certain teammate. HGGL. And more. HGBM. Read and see.
1. Hunters

Disclaimer: they all belong to DC, ok?

Summary: I really hate the BMWW ship. I just do. She's way too soppy for him. I do approve of HGGL, but I think that everyone needs a little walk on the dark side. So here's Shayera's thoughts on a certain dark teammate. Enjoy!

Hunters

_My heart in hiding stirred for a bird - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing! Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume here.'_

Exerpt from 'The Windhover', by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Exhausted, bloodied, with the thrill of battle still flowing in her veins, Shayera staggered into the Watchtower hangar, followed by her teammates. She rolled her injured shoulder, testing its range of movement, and was satisfied. Most of the blood that stained her shirt and wings wasn't hers either, so she felt absolutely no need to be cooped up in medical until her neurotically careful lover decided she was fit.

'I'm going back down,' she announced, striding determinedly away from the hangar and towards the teleports. Predictably, John moved to stop her, but she shrugged him gently off, wiping some blood away to show it wasn't hers. 'I'm fine. I need some air,' she cautioned him, smiling slightly to take the edge off. 'You're the one who needs medical attention.' And that was true. The ex-marine had taken a heavy hit to the chest, and she knew his ribs needed tending to. He knew it too, and backed off.

Before she could move, another neurotic teammate stepped up. Batman this time. She squared her shoulders, ready to declare her fitness once again, when he simply motioned for her to lead the way.

'I'm heading down also. I have work to take care of, in Gotham. If you're coming, get a move on.' Abrupt and impolite as always, he strode past her, cape billowing behind him, reminding her of the leather wings it emulated. Shaking her head at his antisocial attitude, she followed.

As usual, she found herself considering him, his ... power, as he moved confidently ahead of her. Of all her teammates, he was the one that intriuged her most. The others she could understand. They were warriors, defenders, plain and simple. Her mate and the amazon were warriors trained, J'onn a being who had fought the race who invaded his world to the death, Superman and Flash people with extra abilities who had chosen to use them to defend their people. But Batman, though he was these things too, was also something more. He was a hunter.

The hawk in her knew this, as one predator knows another. This was a creature who bent all of his considerable will to hunting down those who stepped outside the lines he had drawn. His prey were the criminals and psychopaths of his, and other, worlds. Rather than depending on abilities granted him by fate, he sought to maximise his chances through training, expanding his limits, as any efficient hunter must.

But there was more to it than that, for her. The hawk inside recognised something else about this man. He knew how to fly.

The others would laugh at this. Batman was one of the two Leaguers who _couldn't_ fly, and the only who was forced to depend on mechanical means to travel with any speed, let alone altitude. But she knew better. What the others did, that effortless glide, was not flying. With them, it was magic or willpower or alternate density that held them up, let them move through the air. That wasn't flying. That was floating.

Batman knew how to fly properly. She'd seen him, leaping from buildings in persuit of enemies, soaring through the streets of a city battle, using wind and air movement to direct his. _That_ was flying. The thrill of fear as one leapt into the unknown, counting only on wings or line to bear one up, the instinctive calculation of wind sheer and crossvectors, the use of momentum and opposing forces to change direction, the mechanics of lift and fall, all these were flying. The others, who simply stepped out into the air, practically walking on it, knew nothing of this.

But Batman did. He knew that elemental thrill, that rush of fear and adrenalin as you trusted yourself to the skies, relying on fragile wings or lines to carry you. If those things broke, were damaged in any way, then death rose up with the earth to claim you. He knew that, the only one besides she who did. And the hawk wanted that. It wanted a mate to feel the thrill of flight with it, wanted that hunter to soar through the skies with it. She loved John, loved him with everything in her that was human, but that was the problem. Not all she was was human. The hawk wanted what the hawk wanted. It was elemental, and quite beyond her control.

'Are you coming or not?' He demanded impatiently, interupting her considerations. He stood by the control panel, glaring at her, fingers poised. 'Destination?' he asked brusquely. She opened her mouth to reply, then paused.

'Gotham,' she exclaimed, on impulse. He stared. 'I want ... to fly with you,' she clarified, unhelpfully perhaps. He looked at her as if she'd been struck on the head, and suffering with a concusion. Maybe she was. They all knew that his city was off limits, yet still she asked.

'You do, of course, realise that I can't fly. I am not John. You left him back there.' He didn't sound impressed with her, hardly surprisingly. 'Perhaps you should join him in medical after all.'

She shook her head determinedly. 'It's you I meant. John can't fly, not really. Floating on the power of the ring isn't flying. I want the thrill, the hunt. I want to fly with you, to take to the air in your city streets, and hunt with you. I need to. It's ... a hawk thing. I need this.'

He looked at her consideringly, in that way he had, as if he was weighing your every motive and thought. Perhaps he was. 'What brought this on?' he asked slowly. She shrugged.

'I've wanted it for a long time. You ... you're the only one who can fly among them. You're the only one who knows what I mean. But if you do not wish to, I understand.'

He stared at her for a long moment. Then: 'Gotham it is.'

Later, returning after a night spent among the rooftops and alleyways of the darkest city in America, a night spent with a hunter and his clan, seeking out the worst of criminals for their prey, she wondered if perhaps he had known. One hunter knows another, and one mate knows another also. He was a hunter inside, and he understood in some way the instinctive need for another to join you in that hunt. He felt it the way her hawk did, without undue thought.

There was nothing she could do. She loved John, and Batman defied all claims to him, even Diana's. If he refused the amazon, then what chance had she? But he had flown with her. He had taken her to his eyrie, his city, and hunted with her. He offered what he had to give, and she should be content. However, what the hawk wants, it strives to get. Instinctively. She wasn't human. She was a hawk, a hunter, a being born to fly, to soar. So was he.

Her tender human heart belonged to John, but her predator's blood would always beat for the creatures of air and night, the hunters of the world. John was her love. Bruce was her mate. She had but to convince them of that.

What the hawk wants, it gets.

Well? What do you think? It's weird, I know, but it seems right to me. Diana just doesn't cut the biscuit. He deserves someone fierce, like Selina or Shayera. So I wrote this. Tell me what you think, please. R&R.


	2. Lovers

I love the reviews! Thank you all so much! This is John's view on things. Bruce may come later. Enjoy!

Lovers

John watched her go, tattered and bloodstained, holding herself with all the pride and fierce energy of a triumphant warrior. His bloodstained angel, his battlehawk. How he loved her, and how he worried for her. He knew the blood wasn't hers, for the most part, yet still it shook him to see it. As much as it shook him to see her walk off after the Bat, while he staggered off to medical.

He fought the urge to go after her. It was illogical. He was injured and required medical attention. She wasn't, and was therefore free to go. That was simple sense. Yet love was nothing if not irrational, and he found himself wondering where she would go, and why. There was so much he had yet to understand about her, and he feared those gaps in his understanding, feared that their still so fragile relationship would slip through them and be lost.

But thinking these things served no purpose now. There were practical things to take care of. Always, you must first take care of the necessities, before you can afford to think of the other things. Yet their relationship was fast becoming a necessity for him. He hoped it always would be, for both of them.

He watched her return the next morning, fresh and with a strange fierceness to her, an electric glow, and he wondered. That glow was beautiful, but worrying. The only times he'd seen it before were after ... their connection. It was the light of passion, the battlefire of her soul. The part of her that he had yet to grasp. It showed in the taut arch of her wings, that made him think it came from the part of her that was Thanagarian, the part that was hawk. The part that he had no handle on.

'Shayera?'

She turned to him, an intense smile on her face, desperation and acceptance co-mingled in her eyes. He faltered, unsure, but she came to him, wings spread above them, enclosing them in a living bower. She took his worried face in her hands, and kissed him, urgent and hungry. He stumbled, caught.

'John, we need to talk,' she murmured. He struggled to clear his head.

'If you wanted to talk, then you shouldn't have befuddled my senses so much,' he stated grumpily, more worried than ever. That had felt too much like a farewell. They slipped into a quiet room, him trailing after her, uncertain and afraid.

She moved to the window, standing against the glorious backdrop of space like some exiled angel, beautiful but hauntingly alien. His heart twinged. 'Do you remember when we first acknowledged what we had?' she began. He nodded. 'Do you remember what I said, that we were too different? I believe it, in part, even still.'

He swallowed, and sat, listening. She turned to face him, the desperation again clear on her features. She went on.

'I'm not human, John. Not fully. I'm Thanagarian. I am a hawk, a predator. But ... I have so many things inside me that are human, and every one of those things cries out that I love you, that we are meant for each other. I listen to those things. They are right. I love you, with everything in me that is human. But there's more to me than that, and I cannot deny those things either.'

She crouched before him, staring earnestly up at him, striving to explain. 'I hunted tonight. I went with Bruce to his city, and I hunted with him, flew with him, fought with him to bring down our prey. Do you know what that means?'

He fought down anger and sorrow. He'd sensed a distance lately, feared another man had caught her, but he had never thought it would be Batman. And yet it made such terrible sense. Of all the people on the team, the dark knight was the closest to her, in terms of career, in terms of nature. If anyone was a hunter among them, it was the Bat. But that still didn't make it right.

'John. It doesn't mean what you're thinking, not completely. It's a different connection altogether from what we have.' _If we still have anything at all_ he thought bitterly. 'John, don't doubt me, please. Just listen.'

'I am a hawk. It's in my blood, my very nature. I couldn't fight it any more than you could fight being black. Some part of me will always live that fierce life, that need for hunt and battle, that need for a mate to hunt alongside. That is what Bruce is to me. A mate, a hunting partner. It is not love, as such. Not love as humans know it. That part of me will always belong to you. But while you hold my heart, he holds my wings. You hold my love, he holds my fire, my wind. I need you both, so desperately I cannot explain it. I couldn't bear to lose you to this, to my other nature. It was easier on my homeworld, where everyone had two natures. Here, I feel I must choose between them, tear myself in two, and I cannot. I need you both. Please, can you understand? I love you, and him, differently but in equal measure. I cannot choose. Please, help me!'

He stared as she fell silent. He understood now her desperation. It was so much at once. He didn't know how to react. This was the gap in his understanding that had caused him such fear, and rightly so. What she asked of him, to share her with another man, was so foreign a concept that he could barely grasp it. Yet he saw her now, not simply the woman he loved, but the complexity of a duality of nature that he could never have seen had she not shown him. He did not want to share such a gift with any other man, yet neither could he bear to hold her jealously to himself and lose half of what made her her. He could not tear her in two, because it would destroy her.

It was simple. He could hold her broken to himself, or stand by her with another mate and see that glory that she held inside fully realised. If he could bear to share her, he would have a part of something more, a winged goddess made free. Was it so much to ask, for them to be whole? As three instead of two, but whole nonetheless. A small sacrifice, in hopes of achieving something beautiful.

'I could never bear to tear you in two,' he said gently. 'I would love you no matter what. What you need, take from me. You have everything I am, you know that. If you need him, then we'll try. I can't promise to take it lightly, or without strain, but I will try. For you, Shayera, I would try anything.'

She gazed at him, tears of gratitude in her eyes. With a gesture purely her, that swelled his heart every time, she feathered her wingtip across his cheek, love shining in her every feature. His heart leapt. For that look, he truely would do anything. He loved her, with everything in him that was human.

But necessities first. 'Does Bruce actually know any of this?' he asked. She shrugged sheepishly.

'Actually, I was hoping you could help me tell him ...'

He burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. By all the gods, he loved her. He just hoped Bruce would too, because she was one hell of a handful. Maybe having another man on hand would be handy, because this angel needed some serious looking after.

'Shy, anything for you. I just hope you know what you're getting us into. I've a feeling this is not something Batman is going to take easily. Persuading him may involve serious bodily harm.'

She smirked. 'But you'll be there to protect me. You always are.'

He couldn't deny it. He always would be, too. He loved her.

Well? I wasn't sure I was going to keep going here, but I could leave poor John hanging. And next chapter we get to see Bruce's reaction. I'm so enjoying this. What do you guys think? R&R?


	3. Mates

Disclaimer: Same as before.

Chapter 3 up. 'Bruise', as one of the reviewers so charmingly (and perhaps acurately) called him, finally gets told about things. How will he react?

Chapter 3: Mates

Bruce watched the other Leaguers carefully, as he always did after missions. The previous day's little adventure had gone reasonably well, all things considered, but he still kept a look out for potential hidden damage. He caught J'onn's eye and nodded slightly. While he watched for physical and psychological ills among his teammates, the Martian searched for emotional ones. Together, the pair of them kept as close a watch as was possible on the health and effectiveness of the other members.

_ A problem of some kind, Batman _

Bruce responded to J'onn's telepathic warning with a brisk query. _ Source? Type? _ He felt a brief burst of ... humour? ... from the Martian, and only barely restrained the urge to glance in the other's direction. Instead he repeated the question, tinged with the telepathic equivalent of a raised eyebrow. He may not have be born with telepathic abilities, but he was nothing if not a fast learner. Over the last couple of months his mental conversations had achieve a range of subtleties that few on this planet could achieve. One of the first things he'd mastered was the ability to convey a range of indicators, normally associated with human body language, over a telepathic link. The 'Bat Glare', as Flash so charmingly called it, was equally effective in the mental arena.

J'onn brushed off the gesture, that tinge of silent laughter still flavouring their contact. _ Source is_ _Green Lantern and Hawkgirl. Type ... is unprecedented. And directed at you _ Batman grunted silently. Really, there was nothing you could do physically that you couldn't do telepathically, with practice. So. What did the League's number one couple want with him? Though he had to admit to a certain concern regarding Shayera recently. She seemed uneasy, unbalanced. If something was wrong with her, then John would naturally pick up on it. The question was: what did they think he could do about it?

The meeting was brief, simply a run-down of the mission and the problems they'd encountered. Bruce kept a careful eye on the two problematic members, while Superman chewed a hole in Flash for being careless with bystanders' safety. As their leader turned to him for back-up, Bruce simply turned to the speedster, stared at him for a long moment, and waited for the inevitable nod of agreement. Once he'd gotten it, and business was pretty much wrapped up, he stood to leave. As expected, the pair stood with him, causing heads to turn towards them. Leaving them to sort it out, he swept from the room, heading for the monitor womb.

They followed him, but waited until they were inside the womb with him before speaking. John took the lead.

'Batman, we need to speak with you.'

'I can see that,' he replied as he settled himself at the control panel. He acknowledged J'onn's unobtrusive presence at the secondary monitor, then tuned the Martian out to grant the other two some semblance of privacy for whatever they needed to say. Once he was linked into the system, he turned back to them, confident that he would be alerted if anything required his attention. 'Well?'

'I'm in love with you,' Shayera stated simply. Thunderstruck, Bruce stared at her. Well, this would explain the laughter in the Martian's thoughts. It had to be a joke. But no-one was laughing, and the looks on both their faces was grave. Deciding for the moment to take it seriously, he looked straight at her, and waited for her to explain.

She shifted uneasily, supported on one side by John. He watched their interaction closely, seeing no discrepancies in their connection to each other. From their body language, the love, taunt and strained as it sometimes was, was still very much in evidence. Which put a serious question over her already dubious statement. His white glare was unnerving her, who always attacked what she feared. By all indications, she was deadly serious.

'You'll pardon me for being sceptical,' he said coolly, glancing pointedly at their joined hands. 'And I do not appreciate the joke.'

John stepped forwards. 'It's no joke,' he said, equally as cool. 'It is real, and a serious problem. You see,' and here he raised those clasped hands, 'we are still in love, as you've guessed. But Shay also loves, and needs, you.'

'You're my mate,' she said. He stared. 'It's not something I can change. For my people, it is elemental. Our duality of nature means that we instinctively recognize mate. It comes from the part of us that is hawk. That is the part that feels you. You are a hunter, and you call to me, as none other on this world. But my love for John grew first, in the human part of me. That, I cannot change either. I am at an impasse, with myself. It is up to you.'

Bruce simply sat, thinking furiously. Shayera was unsteady, wavering but determined, with her emerald knight at her side, to support and love her. And she needed him? For what? One lover wasn't enough?

'Let me get this straight,' he said, slowly and ominously. 'You are in love with John, with a human heart. But the bird isn't satisfied with this arrangement, and needs ... What? A hunting partner? A back-up for lonely nights?' John moved towards him furiously, but he stood fluidly, using his own anger and natural intimidation to still the man's movement . He continued. 'You come here to proposition me? To tell me that you need a second-best to fill in when your knight isn't around? What exactly do you expect me to do, hmm? Say of course, happy to be of service?'

He growled disgustedly and turned away, but her small hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked at her, with her tearstained face and hot, angry eyes, and felt a twinge of longing. Damn her! Damn them both for offering him this, even this, when his pride could not stoop to accept it. And damn him too, for an integrity that never let him alone, never let him bow to life. He needed them to leave.

'I won't,' she said. 'I won't leave you. It's not what you say. That a different part of me loves you to that that loves John does not make you second best. You are as important to me as he is. He is my love. You are my mate. With my people, it is easier perhaps, as we all are so dual-natured. Here, it is not so simple. There are no hunters like you. I flew with you, in your city. I watched you hunt the criminals, the madmen. You were beautiful, but lethal. You call to me, as strongly as John does, but differently. Please, understand. I need my mate. I need you. I need John. I don't know what to do. Please, help.'

He was stricken again, by her sincerity, and her vunerability. She would never let this fragility show if it was not heartfelt. He wanted to comfort her. He didn't understand. Oh, he understood her problem, he knew the duality that was her nature, and he could understand that she meant what she said. What he did not understand was why he was so willing to accept it. He didn't understand why he wanted to be with these two in this place of love they had. He shouldn't give in. He couldn't afford to. He couldn't!

'What do you make of this?' he asked John quietly. The other man smiled sadly. 'I love her,' he answered. 'I love her and I don't want to see her torn apart for a love she cannot help. I cannot force you. That is more evil than should be thought of. But she loves you. She loves me, and I love her, and now she loves you too. It is up to you. But I will welcome you, for her sake, and ours. It's up to you.'

For a long moment, Bruce simply stood there. They waited, patiently but anxiously. Finally, he looked back up at them, a small smile on his usually stoic features. 'I wonder ...' he said softly. 'I wonder what Alfred will make of this. Is it custom for your people to "meet the parents"? Because my family will be _very_ interested in this little developement.'

John laughed gently. Shayera merely looked relieved. 'Fine,' she said. 'As long as you do the talking. This was enough explaining to last me a lifetime!'

Bruce chuckled. 'Wait and see. We haven't even touched on the League yet. How do you think Flash will take this little piece of news.' They blanched, and he laughed that much harder. Oh, this was going to be fun. A lot of trouble, true. But worth it. He looked at her, warrior angel, and her partner, Emerald Knight to his Dark Knight. Oh yes. Definitely worth it.

Well? What do you think? Should I do a couple of reactions chapters? The Bat Clan? The Justice League? R&R, ladies and gentlemen. Pretty please?


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